Jiuling
by tsaintg
Summary: Leon never thought he'd see D drunk...hell, he never thought he'd see D again. But then D has a way of proving him wrong...Post Manga, Leon/D


By the time he'd finished his fifth Shochu, Leon wasn't sure if he was awake or dreaming. Certainly it didn't _seem_ real, sitting across from D in the dimly lit, Northern Mongolian hole-in-the-wall excuse for a bar. Fuck, Leon didn't even know how he'd ended up in Mongolia. Okay…well…he remembered coming in through the Gobi from China in a caravan along one of the more popular trade routes. And he remembered the kind Tibetan monks who'd put him up and more over, put up with him…But _why the fuck was he in Mongolia_? Like he had any hope of finding D _there_! More importantly, what the _fuck_ was D doing in Mongolia?

D's eyes narrowed dangerously and he quickly topped off Leon's glass. He picked up his own glass delicately, rolling it neatly between long nailed fingers. There was no way he should have been able to do that without spilling the liquor, even before the bottle of vodka and the several Shochu shots. D clicked the nails of his free hand against Leon's glass. The message was clear. Leon lifted his shot, gave D a mocking salute, and they tossed back the clear liquid together.

The sensation was a bit addictive—the flavour was sweet, like chocolate (no wonder D'd chosen it), but the alcohol was strong and burnt down the throat, warmed deliciously in his stomach, and the sugar content made sure one got drunker a lot quicker than usual.

Leon slammed his glass to the table, gasping. Across from him, D was swallowing a bit more slowly, his throat working around the liquid. His eyes were closed, but the twist in his lips said he was more in pain than pleasure. He shivered a little and tossed his head back. Leon's dick had been hard for going on twenty minutes now, and it was only getting harder.

"That's better," D purred, and Leon got caught by those eyes, smug, and not even a little glazed.

"Better?" Leon echoed dumbly. They'd been having a conversation, once upon a time, but fuck if he remembered what it had been regarding, or when he'd lost track of it. Sometime around shot three, maybe?

D just smirked and _Christ_, how had Leon lived without every day seeing and wanting to punch, lick, _fuck_ that expression away? He only remained in his seat out of regard to the monks playing host to their impromptu binge-fest.

"_Each generation will reap what the former generation has sown_," Leon sighed. He rested his chin in his hand with a pointed look at the Count.

"Am I helpless, Leon?" D cooed, wrapping his arms around himself. Leon shrugged, and they each did another shot.

"Your turn," D sing-songed. He _couldn't_ still be sober.

Leon cleared his throat, wracked his brain, and spewed the first thing that popped into his mind. "_Hua fei hua wu fei wu, Ye ban lai tian ming qu, Lai ru chun meng ji duo shi, Qu si zhao yun wu mi chu._ "

D's lids drooped low, his eyes moving beneath them. He shivered again, but this time the twist to his lips was all pleasure. "Has the alcohol dulled your senses so already?" He teased, peeking at Leon from beneath his lashes. "Bai Juyi, or Po Chuyi, if it pleases your horrid pronunciation."

Leon tapped the table impatiently, waiting for the rest. It was stupid, he knew, because _of course_ D didn't have anything to prove. And yeah, it had been way fucking easy. But D's smile went hard and cold and he spoke, "_The bloom is not a bloom, the mist is not a mist. At midnight she comes, and goes again at dawn. She comes like a spring dream- how long will she stay? She goes like morning cloud, without a trace._ "

Silence fell between them. Leon couldn't look at D, so he studied his hands instead. His bright red nails were tracing the grain of the wood. "Shall we?" Leon asked at last. D shot him a baleful look, but held out one hand in a fist. Leon matched him. They nodded and spoke together at once. Leon knew the monks weren't even trying to be surreptitious about staring at them any more—surely seeing someone so distinguished as D playing vulgar drinking games was enough to get their attention. Leon lost, and he suspected, as he had since the beginning of the game, that D was using some weird mind-reading ability to cheat like the little mother-fucker he was.

"Your turn," Leon mocked, in a high-pitched, fair approximation of D's statement.

"_To be suspicious is not a fault. To be suspicious all the time without coming to a conclusion is the defect_," D recited. There was a moment when Leon thought he could squint and they could be back in the pet shop.

"I don't have any fucking clue and you know it," Leon scowled. Upon reflection, he should have known better than to get in a contest of wits and stamina with D. He'd never admit as much out loud. He drank his shot with as much silent, wounded pride as he could.

"_All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood_. "

D frowned and murmured softly under his breath, "_Yahnyahn saangcheutlaih jauhhaih_…" It was the first indication all evening that he was anything other than sober, and Leon _liked_ that. He kept flipping the _east_ tile over and over and over. Leon thought maybe he'd be in a better position right now if they'd stuck with Mahjong.

Leon clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and smiled at D teasingly, pouring the Shochu slowly into D's glass. "Tiim?" D's scathing silence was enough of an answer. "Part of _The Universal Declaration of Human Rights_, but I wouldn't expect you to mark anything of that nature."

D didn't say anything still, lifting his glass to his lips. He inhaled, and got that little look of bliss on his face, that anticipatory expression he always got when Leon had brought him something expensive, only now laced with a tinge of apprehension and just a touch of fear. His tongue darted out, tasting the thick, viscous residue around the rim and it just wouldn't be a proper thank-you to the monks if Leon starting fucking D right on the table, would it?

Leon glared pointedly at the drink D was twirling and D blinked, following Leon's line of sight as though he'd completely forgot what they'd been doing. He glared too, but finished the drink in one long gulp.

When the glass was on the table empty, D swayed a little in his seat. Leon stopped himself from holding out a concerned hand. D cleared his throat. His hair was slightly longer than when Leon had seen him last, the ends tickling the hollow of his throat. It made him look younger and more vulnerable. Or maybe that was the alcohol talking…

"I'm, ah…" D paused, doing that weird, entrancing glass rolling thing with his fingers, tugging at his collar with his other hand. When had the frog come undone and _why_ hadn't Leon been checking out all that newly bared skin? "It's a bit hot in here," He finished softly. Leon nodded dumbly.

"Very well, Mister Leon," D said hoarsely and cleared his throat. Leon had to shake himself back to awareness. He tried to focus on D, but the low light was making everything fuzzy. "_A good traveller is one who does not know where he is going to, and a perfect traveller does not know where he came from._ "

Leon felt a slow smile spread over his lips. "Too bad, D. I like Lin Yutang." He still got the lesser than number, anyway, and still had to do the shot, but he felt a warm, tingling sense of accomplishment which he would maintain had nothing to do with the alcohol.

"Are you a good traveller, or a perfect one?" D asked, tipping his head to one side.

"I don't know anything, D," Leon murmured. He hadn't meant to sound so earnest. D's eyes went wide. Leon had sworn he'd never forget. He'd fallen asleep with the memory of those eyes glued to the back of his own. And nothing in his mind was like this. Nothing he remembered captured that cold luminescence. He'd learned so many languages during his travels, but somehow, the most important one was the one he was reading in D's eyes now. Those eyes said _good, _and _neither do I_, and _run away…we both have to run away._

Leon's hand shot out across the table of its own volition, closing hard and fast around D's wrist. Startled, D dropped his glass and let out a little gasping sound. Leon stood, bumping his hip hard against the table, and jerked D with him as he made for the door.

The moment they were closed in Leon's tiny cell of a room, D was between the wall and Leon's body. He curved both into and away from Leon, his hands clinging, and then they were kissing. It wasn't any sensation Leon could have predicted. D's mouth was hot and sweet, and he liked to bite, his sharp teeth sending tingles of desire so intense it _hurt_ down Leon's spine. D's kiss was as expressive as his eyes. Leon wasn't letting go this time.

Clothes were discarded quickly. Leon had to follow the fabric as it fell away from D's body. He'd dreamed of perfection, but this wasn't it. This was better. D's skin was all golden and shadows, dips and curves. Leon nibbled his way down the pale column of D's throat as it moved beneath his lips, producing soft sounds and wordless moans. He caught a nipple between his lips and was occupied for a long moment, delighting in the reactions he could glean with variation—quick, fast flicks of tongue, gentle suction, sharp bites—D's fingers wove through Leon's hair, holding tight.

D's stomach was beautiful, a hollow curve and soft swell, and Leon let his head rest there a moment, just above the sharp jut of his hip. He was unlike any woman Leon had ever seen, but he wasn't overtly masculine, and he was almost _too_ skinny…he was going to have to buy D more sweets now. He was going to have to keep a very close eye on D now, and not let him get away again.

"I won't leave," D said, his touch light and somehow possessive on Leon's brow, brushing back his hair. Leon looked up at him and saw the tenderness in D's gaze. It was warm and welcoming and _everything_. And Leon was done talking now.

The sound D made, when Leon closed his hand around the other man's arousal almost had Leon giving up on the pretext of foreplay and dragging D to the floor to fuck him right there. He shrieked a little, the sound dying quickly in his throat and ending as a soft squeal.

It started slow. It had taken years of dancing, years of searching, and even then they had only prolonged the inevitable. It ended quickly. Leon was only trying to be patient for D's sake, and apparently, D didn't care for that. D tumbled them back on the bed, laying his sharp, stinging kisses all down Leon's neck, over his chest, each point of contact sending thrills right to Leon's cock. D straddled him, and when his strong thighs locked around Leon's hips, he was reminded of how strong D was.

D was as wet as any girl, when he positioned himself over Leon's erection and slid down in one smooth, slow motion, and Leon would have liked to know how that was possible, but after that, he wasn't really capable of any coherent thought. He just took hold of D's hips and D ground against him, moving urgently, desperately, and in some remote part of his brain, Leon was very pleased to be the reason D was desperate.

Leon was only distantly aware of the squeaking of springs, of D's low moans, of the sweat trickling down his temples and neck. He was entirely focussed on the unbelievable tight heat of D's body, the extraordinary promise in D's kisses. He wanted to hold on but he couldn't, hips thrust up over and over, met eagerly by D, and he would have been embarrassed by how soon it was over, how hard he came, the way he groaned D's name—if D hadn't followed him seconds after, lavishing Leon with kisses and gentle caresses down his sides.

Everything went white for a long moment, but Leon had the presence of mind to grab a hold of D's wrist, hard, and not let go. D made a soft sound and rolled to Leon's side, curling against him, actually _purring_, like a contented cat. His fingers brushed over Leon's grip on him, his lips tickled the skin behind Leon's ear. "I said I wouldn't leave."

"I'm not letting go," Leon murmured.

D sighed, but he didn't sound annoyed or exasperated. If anything, he sounded content. Leon let his breathing slow down, let his grip relax, but didn't let go. He was tired, and he was really drunk, and he wanted a lot to just pass out. But he knew it was important to say something, he just didn't know _what_.

"What are you doing in Mongolia?" Leon asked.

"Grandfather sent me to retrieve a pet," D said, his voice regaining some of its formality. Leon didn't like that, nor what D had said.

"Still workin' for him, then?" He asked, a bit shortly.

D raised his head and looked down on Leon with an arched brow. "Does that surprise you?"

"I don't like it," Leon said.

"You don't have to," D countered.

"I'm not letting you go again," Leon said, voice going louder. He sat up, feeling very awake and alert all the sudden.

"So I heard you say," D murmured, smiling just a little.

"Your grandfather—"

"Will be displeased, yes," D allowed, with a small nod of his head.

"You don't seem overly worried." Leon was suspicious.

D relaxed again, and somehow, he was more beautiful when his face lost its cool perfection. "You have travelled a lot, Leon?" He murmured. His hand trailed up Leon's chest, wrapped around his neck, his fingers curled in Leon's hair. His lips pressed to Leon's neck, his jaw, the underside of his chin.

To say that Leon had travelled a lot was an understatement to the extreme. Leon had travelled so long, gone so far, he didn't remember entirely what life without travel was like. He could recall his life from before, but it was foreign and he knew he couldn't live that life again, knew it wouldn't fit, knew he'd feel as though he was trapped in someone else's skin. He had met dozens of people, and loved a great deal of them. He'd learned so many new languages, seen so many beautiful things—both famous and obscure.

"I see," D said, like he really understood. "Before, Leon, you did not understand what I meant, when I told you humans were not allowed aboard my ship. Do you understand now?"

Leon slowly shook his head no, compelled to be honest by the look in D's eyes, and so worried that it was the wrong answer. "Good," D whispered, and kissed him softly.

"I don't understand—"

D nuzzled against him, wrapping his arms around Leon's shoulders and drawing him close. "You have nothing to fear from my grandfather. And we have no need to return to Japan—or anywhere else for that matter—at this very moment."

"The petshop?" Leon protested, surprised to find he was at all concerned.

"These things have a way of taking care of themselves," D said.

Leon thought of the petshop—of the darkened halls, the cloying incense, the plush brocade sofas, the chatter of animals, the taste of tea and was surprised to find that even with D in his arms, he missed the place itself. What an odd realisation…

"It might not be so bad…" Leon murmured after a long moment. He felt heavy all over, and just moving his mouth was an epic task.

D stirred against him, fingertips brushing down Leon's stomach. "Mmm?"

"I mean, not the killing and contracts and all that," Leon muttered with a scowl, opening his eyes to glare at the ceiling.

D moved again until his face was framed above Leon's by his long dark hair. He looked puzzled and inquisitive.

"I might even be nice," Leon said softly, reaching out to tuck some of D's hair behind his ear, delighting in the silky smooth texture between his fingers. "Going back to the petshop," He elaborated. "After all, 'No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.'"

D's lips curved into a warm smile and he drew Leon's body to him, brought his smiling lips down, and welcomed Leon home.


End file.
